


Twisted Bargain

by Dimirti



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28659726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dimirti/pseuds/Dimirti
Summary: “There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man.”Especially if that man is a benevolent fae with nothing left to lose, and the power to bargain.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	Twisted Bargain

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant for an amazing McHanzo zine that never happened. I meant to post this far sooner, but life hit hard and I didn't.
> 
> I had a wonderful artist partner with me on this, and I hope you all can see their art for it.
> 
> Edit: The ending was missing, I don't know why. It's been added back.

The people of the world have a belief that the fae are inherently unkind tricksters, leading one into a tenuous contract for a breath of happiness in exchange for one's soul. The people of the world would be wrong.

Fae exist in as many personalities and quirks as can exist in mortals, the only caveat is while mortals sustain themselves on food and drink, a fae must feast on souls. The clever tend to opt towards strong souls, ones that can sustain them for months. The greedy thrive on the deal, making shady deals for weak souls, offering a day's worth at most. This kind of addiction can drive a fae to madness, even recklessness.

Hanzo has lived millennia, and his brother should have survived at his side. Hanzo was cautious, calculating, and clever. Genji refused to listen. Defiant to a fault, at first it started as a means to pull away from a clan of fae that had a talent for sensing strength in a mortal spirit. Soon, it devolved into an addiction that left his brother grotesquely twisted, hoarding souls like a mizer with coins. It was never enough and he no longer heard reason. 

A mad fae is a dangerous thing. A darkly twisted one even moreso. Hanzo was forced, with a heavy heart, to cut him down, as only a fae can give another fae a true death. His spirit was too far lost to live on.

It never rested well with him, leaving him to self exile, a life of solitude, traveling with just enough souls to sustain him and no more.

On this path he met one Jesse McCree, a fae with a knack for seeing the cruelest of humanity and talent for tricking even the most clever of mortals into a deadly contract. It was together they settled on the borders of the village, living in an old hollow tree. Their magicks made it home and hid them from mortal eyes. 

Time made the village aware of _something_ happening, though none could pinpoint what. Only the whispers of the dying, speaking of meeting a 'kind spirit' carried on the wind of rumors. Hanzo's key talent was his ability to shapeshift. He refused to accept contracts of the unwilling, not after watching what his brother went through. He only sought the worthy, granting them a simple wish for a peaceful end. 

He could appear in any form that soothed them. A wolf. An older man. A child. Once as a peer to a dying teen. All had similar desires. Selfless. A mother that wanted her daughter to live comfortably. A child wanted to fly on gossamer wings. The teen wanted nothing more than for her mother to live on, to be eased that she was at peace. He granted these, and perhaps more to those he felt were deserving. He only had to hunt at most twice a year, the souls strong and selfless and at the end of good lives. 

Jesse, however, sought the cruelest, the darkest of mankind. He hated injustice. A father who abused his children was convinced he'd be rich for the rest of his life. Jesse led him to hidden gold only to have him fall onto his pickaxe, leaving his entire find to his struggling family. It was never a lie, Jesse just never truly let slip how long their lives would last. The souls were far less sustaining, but his happiness came with ridding the village of a dark presence. 

This was the cycle they led, years of keeping the peace in the village, who eventually figured out that fae were lending a hand, a clever lot as they were, but they were content. 

Until they weren't.

Jesse pursued a dark soul that was the most vile. He kept up the appearance of a selfless man, giving to the children in the public eye, only to coerce the owners of the orphanage to pay higher fees for his services. Giving a mother food for her children, only to lock down her husband into low wage labor in return. He never did anything for nothing. His true colors came forward when children started going missing only for their bodies to be found mutilated in the forest.

The fae were blamed after the number climbed over time to nearly thirty. Jesse grew desperate to stop it. Reckless. Hanzo pleaded, even with rare tears in his eyes, to let this one go, Jesse couldn't risk this one.

Hanzo loved Jesse dearly, you see. Deeply. 

Hanzo didn't want to be right, but Jesse slipped, found by the village over the man's body with the blood fresh on his hands. Now fae, in their true form, tend to resemble ethereal things. Wings like stained glass and eyes that seem to glow.

Jesse didn't have time to hide himself, to look mortal like they tend to. He tried to explain, but his words, in this form, weren't understood, nor did they care. They had hands upon him, his wings torn from his back before he could even consider responding. 

Hanzo heard his cries, and his heart sank. He flew as deftly as he could, but by the time he reached the edge of the village square, Jesse's cries had died on the wind. His keen ears caught the sound of something far more terrifying. The sound of dripping blood on the cobblestone breaking the sudden silence.

His eyes stared at the mutilated body strung up near the statue marking the village center. His limbs torn and twisted, cuts and bruises spread on his body, gutted and left as a warning, his wings sewn back on in a shrewd semblance of how they rested, no longer vivid with color, dull and torn carelessly.

He stepped slowly toward the form in the square, the villagers staring in awe. Though they wished to step forward, Hanzo's will kept them at bay, and he was recognized as the kind fae that gave all their loved one's peace. His glamour flickered in their eyes and they saw the wolf, the old man, the teen. 

His tears flowed freely as he lifted off the ground to touch Jesse's face, lifting his head.

"...Dearest, speak to me....tell me you yet live...."

He knew no response was coming, but his heart wouldn't allow him to accept it.

His other hand brushed bloody hair from Jesse's blank eyes and Hanzo's grief started to harden, settling in his heart as his fingers brushed cold skin.

He cried out in reply, a shrill, harsh sound that shattered windows and shook the very foundations of the buildings. The mortals covered their ears, the few closest too late to save their hearing. His hands deftly cut Jesse free and he gingerly caught him in his arms, holding him close as he turned to face the village.

He said nothing as he met their eyes, but all who were present felt a deep-rooted dread, even as Hanzo flew away with the body of his murdered love.

~~

He knew, deep down, somewhere, what he attempted was wrong, but Jesse's spirit existed. He could bring him back, he _had_ to bring him back.

The ritual finished and he didn't have to wait long for Jesse's twisted body to twitch into life. But a fae is meant to be reborn, not resurrected. It's never right, not once. His form grew, large and grotesque. Hanzo ignored the extra limbs that sprouted with skin like tree bark, how horns twisted from his head, how his body kept growing, his spine too long, his back too hunched. His wings replaced with bony protrusions with leathery skin stretched over. 

He ignored how his voice was a growl and his breath coming in wheezing bursts. Hanzo smiled as he reached for Jesse's gaunt cheeks, not even caring he had to leave the ground to actually touch it. The demonic form of Jesse shifted, his limbs coming from four directions to touch and grasp at Hanzo with some furied approximation of intimate touch. This form that should be feral, that should have ripped Hanzo apart, seemed to still love the fae.

Hanzo was blinded by his grief, his anger, his love. He saw Jesse. Only Jesse. Even as Jesse caught the scent of a grazing deer and his mouth spread, opening far to wide and revealing sharp teeth like needles. He moved far more swiftly than his hulking form would suggest, ripping the deer open and feasting like a starving beast.

Hanzo seemed unphased, but a thought occured to him. He walked to him, his hands coming to Jesse's bloodied jaw and coaxing Jesse to meet his eyes.

"Jesse, my love, do you wish to feast....? I have just the place in mind...."

~~

The grotesque form of Jesse stills at the borders of the village. Hanzo has asked him to stop, and he obeys. Hanzo, taking on his ethereal true form, slides from his shoulder with a poise and grace that belies the storm of anger and betrayal swirling beneath his skin.

He’s slowly walking the streets, gliding along bitterly familiar paths.He pauses before a few scattered doors, leaving runes along the frames, to hide the inhabitants from what was to come. He was angry and bitter, but not heartless. There were innocents in even this great of a betrayal. 

He makes it to the center, his eyes falling upon the space Jesse had been displayed and his grief surges anew, though he turns, beckoning Jesse to him. He speaks as he takes to the air, coming to sit on Jesse’s shoulder, a hand bracing on the horn of the beast.

“You all sit pretty in your houses, patting yourselves on the back for a job well done, and you forget all we have done for you. Oh yes, the children are safe, they stopped disappearing, but you forget that Jesse, sweet dear Jesse, was not quick to anger.”

His voice carries down the streets and alleys, causing the villagers to come to their windows, the morbid mortal curiosity taking over the instinct of fear.

“I’m a merciful man. I can offer a chance. Bring me those implicit, those that condemned and mutilated and _MURDERED_....without so much as second thought.”

He was met with silence, a silence that only fueled his rage, before a door opened and a man stepped out. He slipped his hat from his head, wringing it in fearful hands but approached all the same. Hanzo stroked Jesse’s head, the beast rumbling, bearing teeth with need.

The man bows his head and speaks.

“I was involved. I didn’t help but I did nothing to stop it….”

Hanzo glares down at him, silent, judging. He knows grief, he knows it intimately now. He narrows his eyes before he slides to the ground, bringing a hand to the man’s chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“....you lost children….”

The man nods.

“Yes.”

Hanzo smiles, how sincere it is can’t be told, but he guides the man back home. He can’t, after all, fault a man acting on the grief. He knew the children, kind gentle souls. This man’s soul held sorrow, but no ill intent. 

“Close your curtains and lock your doors. Do not look or come out until morning. Take your wife and infant and leave this place. I will only protect you this once.”

He draws the same protection runes on the man’s frame before he hears other doors open, more men coming to the square. These mortals were predictable. All selfish men were. They see mercy, they expect it.

They stand at his feet, practically groveling. They seem to have forgotten they can’t hide their intents, their very souls, from him. They’re all tainted with rage and guilt. They doubt they did right, and that makes his anger all the worse.

“So you come for mercy? You kill my husband, who did nothing but _protect and LOVE_ you. You, whose souls are tainted with guilt, with blood on your hands.”

He laughs and it’s frightening.

“Fear not, for I’ve saved him, returned him, is he not beautiful?”

He throws his arms out.

“He yet lives and he will decide your fates, is that not grand? Beg him for mercy.”

His smile fades and his eyes flash red.

“Beg him as he pleaded with you.”

He takes to the air, and his absence from Jesse’s sight leaves the beast without control. Jesse’s hulking form takes a step forward with a growl. The men cower and back away. He hears one cry out.

“We came to ask for mercy...will you not hear us out?”

How dare they. 

He glares down at him, at them all.

“Did you hear Jesse when he tried to speak the truth? Did you show mercy where it was deserved? When he saved you? You have the _audacity_ to ask for the mercy you lack? No. If you want to beg for mercy, you beg the one before you. Beg and feel as helpless.”

Jesse bears upon them, and they try to run, but it’s futile. Jesse’s a better hunter. A hungry one.

The streets are filled with blood and screams and the fleeting laughter of a mad fae.

~~

There is a legend, they say, of a village hidden in the dark woods. A village haunted by a nightmarish beast that hunts at night. They say he is obedient to but one, a mad fae they beg for mercy.

A fae that was once benevolent and kind, that the humans had crossed in times long passed, leaving him bitter.

They speak of his mercy and his cruelty in equal measure. That he can read the very souls of men and shares no empathy. It’s said that those that could leave did so long ago, those that remain are trapped there, cursed by the sins of their forefathers.

The legend speaks of a beast never seen, as no one lives to describe it, that they only know from the first night the fae brought vengeance down upon them.

The fae themselves no longer come to these woods. Parents once used their legend to keep children in line, but it only works if the children weren’t the only ones safe from their wrath.


End file.
